Too much of everything

Purely Joyful Movie!

When a movie has you begging for it to end not even half way through it's pure crap. We've all seen this movie and this characters millions of times, nothing new in it. Don't waste your time.

There are better movies of two hours length. I loved the actress'performance.

Following work on a couple of Francis Ford Coppola films, directing a couple of cheapie's for Roger Corman, and the delayed but supremely stylish Spider Baby (made in 1964 but unreleased until 1968), man-of-many-talents Jack Hill turned his attention to figure eight racing for Pit Stop, aka The Winner. The subject repulsed the director, but Corman insisted and, during his research, Hill became fascinated by the attitudes of the death-wish men behind the wheels. So, although the topic is pure exploitation, Pit Stop is character- driven, following the exploits of the stoic Rick Bowman (a brooding Richard Davalos) and his increasing obsession with the thrill of the win and the dance with death in every race. As racing promoter Grant Willard (Brian Donlevy) says, a suicide is born every minute.Shot in grainy black-and-white, Hill employs European, guerilla- esque tactics to film the movie as effectively as possible, squeezing as much out of its obvious budget limitations as possible. It helps achieve a neo-noir atmosphere, heightening the gloom yet amping up the style. Modern racing films tend to be sleek and shiny, but Pit Stop is pure grit. The racing scenes, which consist mostly of footage of real figure eight racing, are insanely entertaining, with every crash, flip and slide unhindered by editing, special effects or stunt work. It puts movies like The Fast and The Furious (2001) to shame, as although said franchise is entertaining in its own right, as a movie depicting the sheer thrill of the race, Pit Stop puts it to shame.The performances are effective too. Davalos proves to be a charismatic "I play by my own rules"-type, hesitant at first, but eventually unable to resist the lure of the competition. Donlevy, Hammer's Quatermass, delivers reliable support, but the screen is inevitably chewed up and spat out by Hill regular Sid Haig as outlandish racing champion Hawk, putting his usual obnoxious redneck shtick to effective use. This being a Corman production, it often resigns itself to underdog genre tropes, but Hill's direction and screenplay means that there is always something more existential and cynical lurking beneath the surface. It may be one of Hill's lesser known works when compared to his exploitation classics Coffy (1973), Foxy Brown (1974) and Switchblade Sisters (1975), but it is certainly one of his best.

Surly, thuggishly handsome Dick Davalos superbly carries the day with plenty of rugged, growly, super-slick hipster punk attitude as Rick, a brash, hustling, opportunistic amateur drag racing young turk who willingly compromises what few teensy, faintly held on values he has in order to make it big in the harshly competitive world of professional stock car racing. Backed by pitiless rich sponsor Brian Donlevy (who's pure icy perfection as a ruthlessly avaricious jerk who strictly cares about money and winning), Rick cuts loose his savage, animalistic instincts on the track, taking "dingy," lunatic rival driver Hawk Sidney (a typically wired turn by the ever-manic Sid Haig, who appears here sans beard, but with a near complete head of hair) down a few pegs, romancing sweet, bubbly, gum-chewing wild cat groupie Jolene (an exuberant performance by the adorable Beverly Washburn, the most catty and spiteful of the Meryl family sisters in Hill's wonderfully warped "Spider Baby"), striving to best composed, always in control reigning champion Ed McCleod (the excellent George Washburn), and flirting with McCleod's forlorn, neglected wife Ellen (movingly played by Ellen McRea in her film debut, who later changed her name to Ellen Burstyn and received a Best Actress Oscar for her remarkable work in Martin Scorcese's "Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore").More of a moody, incisive, stingingly critical and flatly unsentimental film noirish character study centering on the horrible spirit-crushing price fiercely aggressive macho males pay for engaging in a taxingly brutal dog-eat-dog sport like stock car racing than your usual mindless smash 'em up car racing action romp, "Pit Stop" might very well be Jack Hill's most sharply atmospheric and tautly self-contained picture to date, a starkly dramatized stunner that casually oozes a certain pungently thick, heavy, oppressively brooding no-kidding grayish and uncompromising sense of overweening moral blackness. The metal-mangling, tire-yelping, dust and dirt flying everywhere race car sequences possess a tense, kinetic, dangerously loose and truly harrowing quality, depicting the ultra-masculine confrontational world of professional stock car racing as totally crazed mondo destructo demolition derby-style pandemonium. Moreover, the burning male desire to win at any cost and be the greatest at something is boldly shown as a kind of severe, seething, deep-seated psychosis.Sumptuously shot in stark, shadowy, steely black and white by Austin McKinney, with a superlative finger-snapping, kicked-back cool hopping blistering fuzztone guitar-driven beatnik rock score by John Fridge and the Daily Flash, uniformly tops acting from a first-rate cast, and a bracingly caustic, penetrating, rough-edged script by Hill, "Pit Stop" makes many startling insights into the grim, ugly barbarism and cold-heartedness at work in male aggression and competitiveness, courageously stating that winning can come at the cost of one's soul and body. Hard, gritty and flinty, done with real guts and style by Hill, "Pit Stop" rates as a raw, nervy, very daring and unjustly overlooked winner that's well worth seeking out and deserving of substantial cult film status.

Recently I watched for the first time Peter Bogdanovich's highly acclaimed "The Last Picture Show". And while watching it, this movie, made only a few years earlier by Jack Hill, came to my mind immediately. Ever since I wonder why I find The Winner so much superior.The Winner has a similar setting and a story with similar protagonists like Picture Show. Both have Ellen Burstyn. Somehow The Winner is very direct. I suppose that whereas Picture Show was intellectual to the point of resembling a theses on film theory, The Winner shows the artisan's approach. It goes to your heart, not to your brain. I could not explain how it is done technically, but it is very effective.Although apparently a "cheapie", The Winner is made by good professionals. The story is simple but coherent, straightforward and always entertaining. The acting performances are convincing throughout; there is screen veteran Brian Donlevy, the most peculiar of all "naturals" and definitively one of my all time Hollywood favorites, playing the type of the greedy sports manager. "Cheapie"-star Sid Haig plays a bad boy with appropriate cartoonish zeal, the same can be said of the performance of "the chick", played by Beverly Washburn. The main character, a young racing enthusiast, is presented like a junk yard gladiator: taciturn, brooding and determined - "existentialistic". It all fits. Ellen Burstyn's low-key performance as a racer's wife is extremely touching - her part again compares favorably with the Oscar winning one in Picture Show.The black and white fotography is excellent, there is a long, almost dreamlike sequence of dragster cars making artful figures in the sand dunes. The soundtrack is fantastic and a good early example of heavy rock music. This is an artful portrait of American provincial youth just before the hippy movement started.

There's a genuinely unhinged quality to the stock car drivers depicted in this movie. Their lives are empty except for the thrill of racing, which amounts to a death wish. The black and white cinematography is excellent, with a very moody documentary/chariscuro feel. The principals are all very good, especially Sid Haig as a particularly unhinged driver. Beverly Washburn (also from the incredible SPIDER BABY) plays the protagonist's teenage girlfriend. For me, this movie shows a more complete mastery of the cinematic form then Coppola or Bogdonovich or any of those guys had when they were with Corman. And of course, the car wrecks filmed at real race tracks don't hurt either.